"
Feebly Wally groped for the clue without finding it. Had Big Bill sold
him out? And how had Elliot got into touch with him?
"Just so, Mr. Elliot. But really, you know, Howland can make you a great
deal more comfortable than Holt. His wife is a famous cook. I'll have a
man go get your traps."
"It's very good of you, but I think I won't move."
"Oh, but you must. Holt's nutty--nobody at home, you know. Everybody
knows that."
"Is he? The old man struck me as being remarkably clear-headed. By the
way, I want to thank you for sending a relief party out to find me, Mr.
Selfridge. Except for your help I would have died in the hills."
This was another facer for Wally. What the devil did the fellow mean?
The deuce of it was that he knew all the facts and Wally did not. He
talked as if he meant it, but behind those cool eyes there might lie
either mockery or irony. One thing alone stood out to Selfridge like
a sore thumb. His plans had come tumbling down like a house of cards.
Either Big Bill had blundered amazingly, or he had played traitor.
In either case Wally could guess pretty shrewdly whose hide Macdonald
would tan for the failure. The chief wanted results. He did not ask of
his subordinates how they got them.
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